Jealousy Isn't That Bad
by Ayumi Uchiha
Summary: Atobe/Ryoma: Atobe is glaring. Ryoma is wondering. Jealous over Sakuno? What the hell did he do this time? Some mentions of their pet names and past "getting to know" stage. Features a paranoid Atobe and a dense Ryoma. Be ready for utter fluff!


**Ayu-chan: **I dedicate this story to the person I love. :D And also to my lovely readers! Enjoy~!

* * *

Ryoma Echizen sighed as he rolled his eyes. _What's _his _problem today? I can't believe he's giving me his famous glare._

He smirked inwardly. _Heh. He's so cute when he glares at me. _He blushed and looked at his shoes.

"Aren't you going to talk, brat?" Atobe glared some more.

"Oh, sorry, your glare scared the voice out of me," Ryoma answered sarcastically.

"Is that sarcasm?" Atobe asked, annoyed. _I almost forgot how sexy he sounds when he uses sarcasm. _He shook his head. _Stop it! He did something utterly dreadful! _

Ryoma chose not to answer. Instead, he shrugged and looked at Atobe nonchalantly. "What's wrong, Monkey King? Did I do something utterly dreadful?" he smirked, knowing that Atobe used that phrase whenever he's mad.

"Stop calling ore-sama Monkey King! Ore-sama hates being called Monkey King! It's your term of endearment to ore-sama, remember? You did something utterly dreadful that is why you are not permitted to call ore-sama Monkey King." Atobe sulked and closed his eyes.

"Okay, okay, fine."

"Ore-sama hates you, brat!"

"Brat is your term of endearment to me," Ryoma reminded. "We're fighting now so you can't call me brat." He smirked, imitating Atobe's reaction earlier.

"Oh, wow. That is so mature of you." Atobe rolled his eyes.

"And glaring at me without talking is considered mature?"

Atobe didn't reply.

Ryoma sighed. "We're getting nowhere. Why don't you just tell me what I did? I'll apologize and we can forget all about it," he tried reasoning out.

Atobe couldn't take it anymore. "How _dare _you say Sakuno's nice?"

Ryoma just stared at him.

"Fuji told ore-sama that you told Eiji that you think Sakuno's nice! Ore-sama thinks that implies something!" he spat out like venom.

"It implies nothing, Atobe," Ryoma sighed. "Senpai asked me what I thought of Sakuno. I told him it's nice," Ryoma shrugged.

"Why were you _talking _about Sakuno, aahhn?"

"Well, yesterday, Coach told us that she had to go home 'cause her cat, named Sakuno, died. And then Senpai laughed 'cause Coach named her cat Sakuno. He asked me what I thought of the name Sakuno," he shrugged.

Atobe gasped! "Ore-sama hates you now more than ever!"

Ryoma was confused. "What? Why?"

"You think her name is nice? What the hell? You told ore-sama once that you think ore-sama's name is ugly." He pointed an accusing finger at Ryoma.

"Her name? What makes you think Coach's cat is a girl?"

"Sakuno is a girl's name. Plus, ore-sama believes your Coach named her cat after her granddaughter."

"Coach has a granddaughter?" Ryoma furrowed his eyebrows.

Atobe looked at Ryoma and laughed. "You really _are _dense."

Ryoma smiled. "Yeah. Maybe that's why I didn't notice that you were already making your move on me then," he teased.

"Ore-sama wasn't making his move! Ore-sama was merely getting to know a peasant like you," Atobe blushed faintly, embarrassed.

"Ha. So you call bribing Fuji-san to takes pictures of me 'getting to know a peasant', then?"

Atobe pouted. "Ore-sama hates you."

"No, you don't." Ryoma smirked.

Atobe sighed. "Fine."

"I can't believe you were jealous of a cat's name." Ryoma laughed.

"Shut up."

"How paranoid can you be?" Ryoma teased some more.

"Stop talking."

"I mean, really, how –"

Atobe gave Ryoma a quick smack on the lips. "Ore-sama told you to shut up."

"Oh, the reasons you give just to kiss me," Ryoma smiled.

"You're such a smart-ass."

"You love me, anyway."

* * *

**Ayu-chan: **The part about Sakuno the cat came from my other story, **Homework Really Sucks**. :) And the part about their term of endearment came from my other story, **Term of What? **:D Be sure to check these out~! Review, too. :DD


End file.
